


Year-Round Love

by masi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 02:25:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2530532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masi/pseuds/masi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In his first year of university, Bokuto realizes that he really adores Akaashi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Year-Round Love

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bokuaka Week, day 4; prompt – seasons and confessions.  
> Thank you for reading!

_Spring_

Bokuto knows that Akaashi is a great captain. Akaashi will try his best to lead Fukurodani Academy to victory this year, in both the Inter-High and Spring High. He might win too. So, Bokuto knows that he doesn’t have to visit Fukurodani to show Akaashi support or anything like that. He’s already gone to the school gym a few times in February, after he and the other third-years graduated from the club, to cheer Akaashi on from the sidelines. And he has stuff to do for his own classes. And he has to go to practice himself. The seniors at the university are giving him and Kuroo a hard time. They’re doing a lot of trash-talking, and he and Kuroo are trying to come up with a way to get some respect.

But still. He misses Akaashi.

“I’ll be back before practice ends, just tell them I’m sick or something,” Bokuto tells Kuroo. 

“You owe me big time,” Kuroo says, and actually takes out a little notebook where he writes down the date and time along with the words BOKUTO OWES ME BIG TIME.

“You’re such a child, Kuroo,” Bokuto says, trying to pull the hood of Kuroo’s sweatshirt over his head so that Kuroo’s bedhead can get worse.

Kuroo pushes him away, and Bokuto heads off to Fukurodani, his heart light, a spring in his step. It is beautiful outside, warm and breezy, the leaves of the surrounding trees very green. The florist near the school has bright, fresh-looking flowers on display, and Bokuto is about to buy a bouquet when he spots a flower bracelet. 

Akaashi doesn’t wear bracelets, but some of the guys at the university do when they’re not playing volleyball. Kuroo was wearing one the other day. It looks kind of cool. And the ones on the stand here are even nicer, made with pretty flowers. Bokuto decides to buy one with pink flowers for Akaashi.

“This is a lovely corsage,” the cashier says, smiling, as she wraps it in tissue paper. “You have great taste! I’m sure your girlfriend will love it. When is the wedding?”

“What wedding?” Bokuto asks, frowning. 

The cashier blinks, smiles, says quickly, “Please visit again! Have a nice day.”

Bokuto doesn’t have time to ask more questions, so he leaves with the “corsage” or whatever it’s called. He can’t wait to see the gym and the new volleyball team. The team is probably practicing very hard.

When he arrives at the gym, he finds almost the entire volleyball team running laps. The second and third-years give him pleading looks as they pass by, sweating and panting. Bokuto pauses, one foot in the doorway.

Akaashi is standing near the center net. He is holding a clipboard and frowning. Bokuto gives the first-years an apologetic smile and then walks over to him.

“They were late for afternoon practice,” Akaashi explains. He glances at Bokuto. “Aren’t you going to be late for yours too, Bokuto-san?”

“It’s okay to take a day off once in awhile, Akaashi!” Bokuto replies, grinning. “I haven’t seen you in months, so I had to come see you.”

“We saw each other three weeks ago.”

“Yeah, same difference.” Bokuto waves a hand.

He can’t stop looking at Akaashi. Akaashi looks so beautiful. Akaashi Keiji, with his dark eyes and blank expression and untidy hair. Bokuto can’t stop smiling.

Akaashi gives a mildly exasperated sigh, says, “You shouldn’t be slacking off, Bokuto-san.” He glances at the corsage.

“Oh!” Bokuto holds it out. “This is for you.”

Akaashi reaches for the gift, but Bokuto holds it back, suddenly struck with inspiration. He takes the corsage out of the tissue paper and carefully fastens in around Akaashi’s left wrist.

He looks at the flowers for a moment, pretty and pink, resting just below the raised veins of Akaashi’s hand. There is an odd feeling in Bokuto’s heart.

“Well,” Akaashi says, “since you’re here already, you can stay.” He drops his hand to his side. “But just a little while, alright?”

Bokuto clears his throat. “Yeah,” he says. “Thanks, Akaashi. I really miss you, you know?”

“You’re so embarrassing, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, turning away. “And there was no reason to buy me a wrist corsage. These are usually worn by women to formal events.”

So that’s what the cashier was talking about. But Akaashi hasn’t taken the corsage off, and after the team has started practicing (and probably when he thinks Bokuto isn’t watching), he touches one of the flowers. Bokuto grins, pats Akaashi on the back.

 

_Summer_

Fukurodani loses in the semi-finals of Inter-High, and Akaashi stops answering his phone. 

Bokuto is sure Akaashi is holed up at home for summer break, probably staring blankly at the TV, his phone turned off. Bokuto understands, he needs alone-time to work through disappointments too, but it kind of hurts his heart to think of Akaashi alone and hurting. They’ve been there for each other for so many months, for every crushing loss, for all those times they were so close to winning only to lose at the last second.

“No, I’m not going to his house with you,” Kuroo says when Bokuto asks.

“But he might talk to you! You two have so much fun making fun of me, so why can’t you do this for him now, huh? What kind of friend are you? Just tell him he did a really good job, and that there’s nothing to be sad about!”

“You were his captain, not me,” Kuroo replies. “It’s something that you have to tell him.”

So Bokuto drags himself over to Akaashi’s house. Akaashi’s mom answers the door, looking pleasantly surprised. She gives him a glass of lemonade and tells him that Akaashi isn’t at home. He is at a park near their house. Akaashi has been spending time outside, taking photographs and climbing trees.

Bokuto jogs all the way over to the park. He is sweating by the time he arrives because of the stifling July heat. He pauses for a moment to roll his capris up and then he starts to call Akaashi’s name. It is a small park, so Akaashi will probably be able to hear him.

After a few minutes, Bokuto hears Akaashi call out, “Bokuto-san?” 

Bokuto looks up to find Akaashi perched in one of the tallest trees in the area. Akaashi is sitting between two branches, a camera hanging from his neck, a floppy sunhat on his head.

“Cool!” Bokuto says, grabbing the lowest branch. “I want to come up there too!”

“No,” Akaashi says. He starts to climb down. “You’re going to make us both fall.”

“Aw, Akaashi, why are you such a party-pooper.”

Akaashi jumps down from the lowest branch, adjusts his hat, looks up, blank expression firmly in place. 

Bokuto puts his hands in his pockets. “Yeah,” he says, clears his throat a few times.

After a minute of standing around in awkward silence, Bokuto says, “Hey, you want to practice with me?”

Akaashi frowns. He asks, sounding almost angry, “Why, don’t you have setters to help you at your university?”

“They don’t like me. And I miss practicing with you! I miss your sweet tosses. We haven’t played volleyball together for so long! You and I have a,” he draws an imaginary line from Akaashi to himself, “connection, right? You really get me.”

Akaashi adjusts his hat again. “I don’t need your pity, Bokuto-san,” he says. His voice is a little unsteady. “I tried to lead the team to victory, but I failed. I’m sorry I disappointed you.”

Bokuto can’t believe what he’s hearing. He puts his hands on his hips. “Akaashi!” he protests. “The only way you’ve disappointed me is by ignoring me for the past five days. That’s not what friends do to each other. I don’t care how many times you lose. You’re my favorite setter. And my favorite person. You made me feel better when we were watching Harry Potter and Hedwig … Hedwig … you know.” He takes a deep breath. He still can’t bear to say the word.

Akaashi bites his lower lip. Bokuto realizes after a moment that Akaashi’s eyes are looking glassy because they are filling with tears. “Why are you crying?!” he asks, reaching out. To do what, he’s not sure, but he just wants to make this all better, to make things okay again.

“I’m probably allergic to trees,” Akaashi replies, moving away, wiping his eyes. “I need to find a better subject to photograph. Let’s go practice, Bokuto-san.”

 

_Autumn_

“Kenma isn’t coming here,” Kuroo says. “He’s going to another university that has a better computer science program. Wants to design video games.”

“But you’re neighbors, right, so you can see him whenever,” Bokuto says, trying to pull Kuroo’s laptop closer so that he can see the essay Kuroo is writing about the poem they were assigned for their Japanese literature class. Three pages for a haiku! Bokuto can’t believe these university classes.

Kuroo moves the laptop away, says, “Where’s Akaashi going?”

“He’s coming here, of course! He likes playing volleyball with me.”

Kuroo raises an eyebrow. “As much as he likes playing with your balls, I mean, playing volleyball with you, haha, isn’t he going to try for TouDai or something? He can get in ‘cause he has both brains and ambition.”

Bokuto was going to yell at Kuroo for talking in a dirty way again, but he is worried suddenly. He hadn’t thought of that earlier. Of course Akaashi will want to go to TouDai. He’s smart and can get in easily. He used to help Bokuto with homework before, for long hours, getting increasingly annoyed but still there for Bokuto, making him flashcards and color-coded schedules. Of course Akaashi should go to TouDai because he’ll be able to get a really good job after he graduates and be really successful and Akaashi deserves that, Akaashi deserves all the good things.

But Bokuto had assumed Akaashi would be coming to this university and that they would play on the same team for another three years. There are people who haven’t attended TouDai and still have really good jobs, like his parents. It’s important to play volleyball during one’s youth. Jobs and careers and responsibilities are for later.

“I’m gonna convince him to come here,” Bokuto says.

“Yeah?” Kuroo snorts, hunching over his laptop again. “How’re you gonna do that? Yell at him at the top of your lungs?”

“I have a delicate touch too,” Bokuto snaps, kicking Kuroo’s chair. He doesn’t know why he comes over to Kuroo’s dorm room to do homework. Kuroo is always trying to break his balls. Now he needs to prove that he has a delicate touch. He looks around for inspiration.

Kuroo’s room is as messy as his hair. Bokuto doesn’t know where to look. He picks up his literature textbook again.

That is when he gets a good idea. “I’ll write him a haiku!” Bokuto announces. “Akaashi will get the beautiful, subtle message in it, and he’ll like the gesture. Give me a pen.”

“Just text him the haiku, this isn’t the Middle Ages,” Kuroo replies, sounding bored.

It takes Bokuto an hour to come up with a haiku. He tries to think of nice nature ones at first, things like how Akaashi smells as clean as a pine forest, or how his eyes are as dark as the sky on a moonless night. Bokuto’s cheeks feel a little warm as he types those lines. He keeps thinking of the corsage on Akaashi’s beautiful wrist. Keeps thinking of how warm Akaashi felt those times he let Bokuto hug him. Of how soothing Akaashi’s monotone voice sounds in Bokuto’s ear.

But his nature haikus are not getting his point across, so in the end he types into his phone: 

**TouDai waits for you,  
** **but so does fun volleyball**  
 **with Bokuto-san.**

It’s not as poetic and subtle as he had wanted, but it will have to do. He hits “Send.”

Akaashi replies, about an hour later: **My parents want me to take the exam for TouDai. I’ll think about it.**

The next three years seem very long and empty now. Bokuto can’t believe this. His heart is already breaking, and he hasn’t even kissed Akaashi once.

He can feel himself sinking into a dreary gloom. He drags himself out of Kuroo’s room. It is pouring outside too, the kind of cold rain that gets into everything and freezes you down to the bone. He stares at a pile of orange-brown leaves that have been mushed into the sidewalk. He feels like that pile of leaves.

“Love sucks,” he tells Kuroo the next morning at practice.

“Who needs love when you have volleyball,” Kuroo replies, aiming a volleyball at Bokuto’s head.

Bokuto catches it. The seniors are yelling again. His clothes are wet from the rain that has been falling steadily since last night. His hair is now drooping over his ears. It probably looks as messy as Kuroo and Akaashi’s do on a regular basis. He sighs.

 

_Winter_

Bokuto had thought he would get over his funk about Akaashi going to TouDai, but it’s been two months since he sent that text and he still feels gloomy. Volleyball isn’t as much as fun either. The seniors aren’t letting him play as much as he would like, and whenever he gets a chance to sub in for another Wing-Spiker, he gets his ass kicked. He tries not to be too bummed about it – Ushiwaka and the other former top Wing-Spikers haven’t been playing much either – but it still sucks.

“It’s not the end of the world, Bokuto,” Kuroo says one chilly December morning. “Why don’t you go see Akaashi? He’s like ten minutes away.”

“No, I can’t,” Bokuto replies, pulls up the collar of his jacket, zips it over his mouth.

Kuroo sighs, rolls his eyes up to the cloudy sky.

Later, when Bokuto is getting a hot chocolate from the café to cheer himself up, he remembers all those times he used to eat barbecue with his old team. They had good times together. Now they’re all separated, all busy with their own lives. He hasn’t seen Sarukui, Komi, Washio, and Konoha since March even though they’re all in Tokyo.

“Hey, Miss,” he says to the cashier, “can I change my order? Two hot chocolates, please.”

After he gets his order, he puts the cups into a tray and texts Akaashi. Then he steps outside and starts walking towards Fukurodani.

Bokuto spots Akaashi when he is halfway to the school. He stops walking. There is a tight feeling in his chest. 

Akaashi is walking towards him, slightly to the left of the crowd of pedestrians, hands tucked into the pockets of that blue jacket he has had since tenth grade, a thick gray scarf covering his mouth and nose, his head bent slightly towards the ground. Akaashi is so familiar and solid and there and all Bokuto wants.

“Yo!” Bokuto calls when Akaashi is a few feet away from him. He raises an arm.

Akaashi looks up. He pulls his scarf away from his face. “Bokuto-san,” he says.

“For you,” Bokuto says, pulling one of the cups out of the tray. “Hot chocolate. It’s nice to do this kind of thing on a cold day, right?”

Akaashi takes the cup with a quiet thanks, looks around. “Shouldn’t we sit down somewhere?” he asks.

They find an empty bench at a nearby park. Akaashi sips his cocoa slowly, like he is savoring it. Bokuto drinks his own a little too fast. It burns as it settles into his stomach.

“How’s practice going?” he asks afterwards.

“Fine.” Akaashi rubs his hands on his cup. His hair is flopping this way and that because of the freezing wind. His fingers are red. Bokuto wants to touch them, he wants to run his fingers through Akaashi’s dark hair, wants to kiss the chapped red lips, and the tip of his nose and his cheeks, flushed pink from the cold. 

“How is your new team, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asks.

“Eh.” Bokuto waves a hand. “Not good, not good. But the seniors will be gone soon, and Kuroo and I have plans then. Real good plans. It’s too bad you’re not joining us though! How’s your studying going for TouDai?”

“Fine.” Akaashi stares at him for a long moment before glancing at the street.

Bokuto reaches out and takes Akaashi’s free hand in both of his own. Akaashi jumps a little, clearly startled. It makes Bokuto sad. Akaashi had gotten used to Bokuto’s hugs and touches, and now he’s forgotten.

“You won’t forget me, will you?” Bokuto asks. “You’ll still meet up with me for cocoa? We can still practice together sometimes, right?”

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi begins.

Bokuto presses Akaashi’s hand to his chest, right over his beating heart. “Just let me say one last thing,” he says. “Akaashi, you can go anywhere, you really can, and I want you to, I do. But I really want us to be together forever too. It was fun when we were together.”

He releases Akaashi’s hand. He closes his eyes so that he doesn’t have to look at Akaashi and see a pitying gaze. “That’s all,” he says. “Sorry for getting all mushy. You don’t have to say anything. When’s the Spring High finals? I want to come cheer for you guys!”

His voice cracks a little. He takes a deep breath and looks up at the sky. It is getting dark. He will need to return to the dorms soon.

After a moment, Bokuto feels Akaashi’s hand on his cheek. Akaashi turns Bokuto’s face so that they are facing each other again. Akaashi says, “How are you going to cheer us on when you’re unhappy?”

Bokuto smiles. Akaashi is so thoughtful. He pretends not to care, but he does deep down. Bokuto puts an arm around Akaashi’s shoulders. “No worries,” he says. “I’ll be okay by then. I’m already feeling better! Want me to walk you back to your house?”

“Actually,” Akaashi stands up, “can you show me your university? I need to see how large the dorms are so that I’ll know what to pack.”

“Okay, but I’m not sure that the dorms at TouDai are the same.” Bokuto gets up.

Akaashi reaches up and touches Bokuto’s hair. “Who said I was going to TouDai? I only told you that I’m taking the exams. But I’m taking the exams for your university too, and I have a better chance of being accepted there.”

When Bokuto realizes what Akaashi is saying, he launches himself at Akaashi, crushes Akaashi into a bear hug, picks him off the ground. Akaashi doesn’t seem to mind though. He’s hugging Bokuto back.

“I love you, you know,” Bokuto says.

“Thank you,” Akaashi replies. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Bokuto puts Akaashi back down. “Was it the haiku?” he asks. “You read it again, and it changed your mind, didn’t it? You liked it, huh?” He beams. “I worked really hard on it.”

“I’m sure,” Akaashi replies, adjusting his scarf. “Let’s get going.”

“I’m going to show you the gym first,” Bokuto says. “And then we can go have dinner. My treat.” 

As they are crossing the street, Bokuto tugs Akaashi towards him, puts one of Akaashi’s red hands into his own coat pocket. “You need to wear gloves, Akaashi,” he says.

Akaashi kisses him on the cheek, so quick that Bokuto doesn’t realize what has happened until it’s over. All he felt was a soft, cold press against his skin. But there’s time enough for more. He puts his arm around Akaashi’s shoulders and pulls him closer.


End file.
